Accidentally in Love
by MultipleCyrosis
Summary: Series of chronological extended oneshots about how Ichigo and Rukia fell in love. [Chapter 3 Up][IchiRuki][Completed]
1. School

**AN:** I'm listening to the song, "Accidentally in Love". It's a really happy type of song. Makes me want to write about happy stuff! Hahaha. I think this is basically going to be a compilation of all my one-shots about Ichigo and Rukia, based around the theme "Accidentally in Love" (Jeez, that wasn't obvious). Actually, they'll probably follow some sort of chronological order, so I'm not sure if I'll call them one-shots or not. (extended one-shots?)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach

* * *

**Accidentally in Love: School**

* * *

Actually, she didn't know when she fell in love with him. Oh, she knew the general time period, but she didn't know the exact moment. There were too many moments to think about. 

But now, she lay in the meadow by herself when the sun was shining, the breeze was warm, the grass soft – she found it easier to think back.

* * *

It was school again. A pretty ordinary day, really. The only thing worth mentioning that was out of the ordinary was that the hollows hadn't really appeared for a while now. Even Rukia, known as the model student of the class (barring the fact that she was an exchange student) felt bored. It was one of those days where students just felt the dimension of sleep calling out to them. 

Ichigo had just gone to the bathroom, and all the students envied him. The teacher had a policy that allowed only one boy and one girl out of the classroom at the same time, to prevent mass congregations during school time.

No girls had gone yet, so Rukia put her hand up to ask for permission to go the toilet. Even if there was another girl, the teacher would have let her anyway, Rukia thought smugly as she made her way out of the classroom. Those mangas had helped her develop the perfect classroom character – one that drove Ichigo nuts.

As she exited the toilet block, she decided to take the scenic route back to class. The teacher wouldn't question her anyway. Plus, she had been told by Ichigo that _everyone _did it – why couldn't she?

She breathed in deeply. The air near the top of the school certainly seemed purer than the bottom levels. She was about to turn the corner when she heard a familiar voice.

"Leave him alone."

Verbally, that was all she heard. She peeked around the corner to find Ichigo fighting off three larger students. Behind him cowered a smaller student; obviously scared. Rukia started to step out, but saw that Ichigo had (quite easily) finished off the three larger students.

She watched him turn around, ask if the kid was ok, then continued walking down the corridor, further away from her. Rukia blinked. The 'tough-guy' character Ichigo had been putting up all along was just that – a character. She smiled to herself, and then retraced her steps. That way, she would get to the classroom before Ichigo.

When he entered the classroom she was already in her seat, catching up on the second set of notes of rubbish that the teacher had decided to give them. She didn't look up as he walked to his desk.

When he sat down, she counted to ten, and then turned to him, giving him a soft smile. Without waiting to see his reaction, she continued copying down the notes from the board.

* * *

Even though she was by herself, she gave a slight nod after reliving that experience. Yeah, that was probably when she fell in love with him. Actually, there was probably more, but right now she was content to just think of that one time, where she had just felt _attracted _to him for some reason. 

"Yo."

She opened her eyes to see Ichigo standing beside her. He was wearing his usual scowl, though she couldn't exactly see it because of the bright light behind him.

She didn't reply to his greeting, instead, she gave him a soft, genuine smile she was sure he would catch. With that, she closed her eyes again, smiling to herself when she heard him settle down next to her on the grass.

Ichigo sighed. Softly. This girl…he didn't know when he had…taken a liking to her. It had started _that _day, really, when she decided to smile at him – properly for once. Not one of those stupid fake smiles she gave everyone, but it was like this smile was meant for him, and him only. Just like the one she just had given him. She didn't say anything, but it said a lot. Or maybe it didn't mean anything. If that was the case, maybe he was reading too deeply into the small things – maybe he was in love. Ichigo never thought that Rukia might be.

* * *

He had decided to take the long way back to class that lazy day. It was one way of shortening the boring class period. That was when he saw that small kid being confronted by some annoying students – he recognised them as people who sat around the back area of the school, smoking, swearing, etc. 

Ichigo didn't really want to get into a fight – the day was pretty lazy, and he didn't feel like it. However, he reasoned, that if he did get into a fight, he could prolong his time away from class – and for a good reason.

When he got back to class, he expected Rukia to look up, as she usually did when he walked in – he expected her to hiss at him and ask him why he took so long, expected her to comment on the blood on his shirt – but she didn't. She didn't even look up when he took his seat.

He didn't know why it mattered so much, really, it was just out of the ordinary, that she would treat him just like anyone else. He didn't know if he liked it. So, he watched her carefully, to see if anything was wrong.

Yes, that was the reason, just to see if anything was wrong. But as he watched her, he became distracted – lucky the teacher had her back to the class. He had never noticed how the sides of her face curved together, how some of her hair refused to stay behind her face, they had to rebel and cascade lightly down one side. Then there was that rogue strand of hair that fell casually across her face. That strand, the one he always wanted to just reach out and place behind her ear.

He was so caught up in examining her face, that when she turned to look at him, he almost fell off his seat. It must have gone to his subconscious that she was never going to look at him again.

Well, this was it – now was the time for her to whisper fiercely at him to concentrate on his work – copy down the notes the teacher was writing on the board – like she always did. Instead, she gave him a soft smile, and then immediately turned back to her work. Ichigo blinked, and felt his cheeks heat up.

* * *

He looked down at her, lying peacefully in the grass next to him. Those class notes never did written down. But even though he never got a record of those notes, he had made sure he kept a mental record of her face. 

Now that her eyes were closed, he felt sure he was allowed to look at her, memorising every detail again. Again, there was the rogue strand of hair that scampered across her face. The one he always just wanted to reach out and place behind her ear.

He did just that. Gently.

Rukia's eyes opened, questions in them this time.

But this time, he was the one who looked away.

_Damn. I think I'm in love._

She watched him for a few seconds, and then thought pretty much the same thing.

* * *

**AN: **I'll probably continue. Sometime. For now, I'll leave it as a one shot, and update when I feel the need to be happy again. Review if you like it. 


	2. Home

**AN: **Thanks for reviewing. Really quite flattered. Hahaha, especially Guety. Anyway, I guess you could take this as a continuation of the one-shot before. But you could also read it separately, and still understand. I like thinking about it in chronological order though. Kinda makes the story flow a bit.

A thing you should know: oysters are an aphrodisiac.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach

* * *

**Accidentally in Love: Home**

**

* * *

**

They had left the meadow, but it was obvious it was only a few minutes or so. The grass still hadn't sprung up in two particular places that indicated that there were two people there.

If time was rewound, you could see the two figures get up from the grass and start to walk back to the main town area. And, if you fast forwarded time, you could see the two figures walking, their backs to the sunset.

Ichigo hadn't said anything on the way home, Rukia noticed. Well, she wasn't exactly saying anything either, but usually they were arguing about something – or at least disagreeing, or fighting even. This was not happening today. It reminded her of the time when he became sick on the way home from school one day.

* * *

She had walked a few steps behind him that day. She was very excited, since Ichigo's dad had taken the girls on some sort of family bonding camp that would last the whole weekend, starting today. That meant she got to watch the TV, and use the kitchen. She skipped happily behind him. 

She had thrown a couple of comments in the air, but to her surprise Ichigo hadn't argued or fought back – he simply kept silent. She was about to ask him what was wrong, but thought better of it. She would observe him first. She quickened her pace, just to catch up with his long strides. When she thought he wasn't looking, she peeked at his face, noting that it had turned a pale shade.

This wasn't a good sign, she thought. She said something casually, something that the normal Ichigo would disagree with, yell at her etc. But today, this Ichigo merely looked at her and continued walking. This got Rukia really worried.

"Ichigo, what's wrong?"

Her tone had changed, but he kept walking forward, like a pre-programmed robot, slumping over slightly.

"Ichigo!"

He still kept walking.

She ran up to catch up, and then stood in front of him, her arms outstretched. Ichigo really did look pale today.

"Tell me what's wrong," she stated, holding her ground.

Ichigo shoved past her, not saying anything. Angered, she put out her foot where he could see it, to trip him. This was her last resort. The normal Ichigo would have asked her if she thought he was stupid for placing such an obvious trap in front of him. This Ichigo just walked straight forward, abruptly tripping over her outstretched foot.

Rukia was surprised. Something must really be wrong, she thought as she knelt next to the fallen Ichigo.

"Ichigo…" she said, this time softer.

"…I…feel sick."

She remembered the rest of that day quite well. She had to struggle with Ichigo's fallen body all the way to the house. Then, she had to carry him up all those stairs.

If that wasn't enough, she had to tuck him in! Not that she didn't enjoy it; it was just that his body was so heavy.

After she had gotten him in the bed, school clothes and all, she watched him instantly fall asleep. She sighed to herself. There went her weekend. Out the window. There went watching the TV. She didn't think that watching Ichigo could be more interesting. Instead, she glared at his sleeping face, annoyed – it was his fault, after all.

Why did he have to go get sick, she thought to herself as she trotted downstairs to mix up some brew that (she thought) would heal the passed-out Ichigo. Well, at least she still got to use the kitchen.

She hummed to herself as she looked through the cupboard for medicine. Maybe this would be fun after all.

Hm…she found a bottle of pills with no labelling. She shrugged, and placed two in a clear plastic cup. What else would be good for the poor boy? Something that would wake him…make him feel alive…she grabbed the bottle labelled "Chilli". She placed a few in the cup.

The mixture was still missing something. Salt, pepper and vinegar had somehow been added into this mysterious concoction. As an afterthought, thinking he might like his brew sweet, and keeping in mind the old proverb 'you catch more flies with honey than vinegar', she grabbed the jar of honey and scooped a large dollop and generously deposited it into the cup.

She scanned the kitchen for anything else that looked like it might be of some use for her brew then her glance abruptly stopped on the onions and garlic. Shrugging, she picked up one of each and placed it on the bench along with the cup with the miscellaneous ingredients. By this time, the plastic cup, a mere 250ml, was already at its limits.

Surprisingly to Rukia, she found the contents in the cup almost solidified to the point where it could not be mixed. There was also the matter that the onion and garlic could not fit in there. A pot was conveniently drying on the dish rack; Rukia grabbed that and filled it halfway with water. She turned on the stove and put the saucepan on it to boil. Five minutes later, ingredients were added to make quite the unique solid, erm, liquid. It didn't really help that the garlic and onion hadn't been peeled before they were thrown in.

While waiting for the brew to cook, she vaguely remembered one of the captains saying that oysters were good for ill people. Na-na-o-chan! I'm sick! Feed me some oysters. Rukia cringed. Yup, definitely Shunsui. But surely the old man had some sense. And since there were some oysters in the refrigerator, why not use them? There was nothing to lose.

And so the oysters were readied on the bench on a platter. By this time, Ichigo's 'medicine' was finished. A brown, sticky, gooey substance. Rukia stared at it, wondering what had gone wrong, but just shrugged it off. Ichigo was sick anyway; anything would do.

She poured the brown substance into a mug, placed the mug onto a tray, placed the platter onto the tray, and smiled triumphantly. This, she thought to herself, could probably cure cancer. Little did she know that she was half-right. By killing the person, the cancer couldn't survive.

She gave him the cup. He really did look, sick she thought, as she told him to drink it. His eyes were half lidded as he looked down at the gooey brown liquid. He must have been really sick, because he downed the cup in one go.

Neighbours heard the scream, but they dismissed it as 'just another weird thing' that occurred at the Kurosaki household.

Rukia took a step back in surprise. She looked at the Ichigo in front of her, his eyes were bloodshot, and his tongue was hanging out, as if it couldn't stand being it his mouth.

"…water…" he whispered weakly.

Rukia looked around her. No water in sight. She looked down and her gaze fell on the plate of oysters.

"Here." She shoved the plate in front of him, feeling slightly guilty at the fact that her Ichigo had changed from a frowning, orange haired boy, to a deranged, drooling, pale, 'thing', one could possibly mistake for being a human…once upon a time.

Ichigo didn't look, but grabbed the oysters off the plate, also downing them in one go (shell and all). He gulped, and a silence of about five seconds prevailed. After which, he promptly passed out.

Rukia had gone up to the roof after that. It was night outside, and she was slightly saddened at the fact that her special brew, which she had spent so much time in making, had been cruelly rejected.

How long she had been up there, she did not know, but it was surprising to hear Ichigo climb up on the roof. He looked a bit more normal now, and he had changed from his school uniform.

They looked at each other. Rukia didn't say anything, but looked to the side guiltily. She would ignore him, she decided.

"Yo."

She didn't reply. She just sat there, looking at the lights of Karakura. That was why, when she felt Ichigo slide behind her, she reflexively stood up, and nearly fell off the slanted roof.

* * *

They had reached the house. For once, Ichigo and Rukia entered through the same door. Rukia suddenly felt uncomfortable in Ichigo's room – he had been acting weird today. She waited until he went out of the room and then climbed up on the roof, through his window. 

Then she sat there. It wasn't night, like that time, but she still enjoyed it.

"Rukia?"

She looked down, towards where the sound came from. It was Ichigo, leaning outside of his window, a worried expression on his face.

When Rukia didn't answer, Ichigo furrowed his brow. There were times when she didn't answer anything he said, which made him extremely agitated and annoyed. For some reason, he just wanted to know about her – everything about her.

Then Rukia stood up. Ichigo's frown became deeper. If she fell, he wasn't exactly in the best position to catch her.

* * *

He had caught her. That night. For some unexplainable reason, he had positioned himself behind her, and was about to put his arms around her (another unexplainable reason – he just felt that she looked rather good that night, or something), when she suddenly stood up. 

But, before she could fall, he had caught her, his arms encircling her waist.

She had muttered a small word of thanks, and he knew she expected him to let her go. He sighed to himself. There were all these times where he had caught her, or held her – for necessity only.. But this night, he had just felt…so romantic. She probably didn't feel the same.

In the end, he had let go, albeit reluctantly. They sat down together, and didn't say a word. It was awkward, after all, Rukia had tried to cure his sickness with some foul tasting, thick liquid which had nearly killed him. Then, she had given him oysters. Oh sure, it wasn't her fault that those had nearly killed him as well (with the shells!), but still… It had given him a troubled sleep.

But from that day on, he had always wondered what she would do if he held her just for the sake of holding her.

* * *

"Oi." 

Rukia looked down at the orange-haired boy who was now on the roof.

"What?" she said, slightly cross, because he had interrupted her moment of freedom.

"You'll fall again."

"No," she retorted. "The only reason why I fell last time was because you" – she pointed an accusing finger at him – "sneaked up behind me."

She saw him disappear, but she didn't see him move. The next thing she heard was his voice coming from behind her saying, "Like this?"

This time, she really felt like she was going to fall. But, Ichigo caught her. Again. It was exactly the same as that time, his strong hands encircling her waist, pulling her close to his body.

Ichigo's mind was having a quiet battle. He shut it out, and continued holding her for longer than was necessary, saying to himself that if she resisted one bit, he would let go immediately. She didn't. He tried to calm his beating heart, and slowly sat down, bringing Rukia with him. It was a good thing neither could see each other's face, for it really was not a normal colour at all. Well, beet red could be described as a normal colour.

For a while, they just sat there, neither wanting to move – lest they disturb the comfortable position that each other were in.

"Ichigo…" Rukia said, after a few minutes of silence.

"Mm…"

"I…like this."

"…"

"I don't know why, though. I've been alive for longer than you…but I don't understand this thing," she said hurriedly.

"I…" _I'm in love with you, Rukia. _"…same."

Rukia didn't say anything after that. But, Ichigo could somehow tell she was a bit disappointed that he hadn't said anything. He shook his head. For now, he was just content with holding her. Sorry, he apologised in his head.

_I'll tell you sometime._

* * *

**AN: **This one took slightly longer to write. Than usual. Anyway, I'm going to go study. If you like it, review it. My first attempt at one-shots. This weird fic will continue. I think I'll finish either next chapter or the chapter after that. Thanks! 


	3. Ice Cream

**AN: **This chapter is probably the last one. I dunno, I'll tell you at the bottom. Well, thanks for reviewing me through these past few chapters. Sure feels good to have a story finished. Oh yeah, I'm not certain on the subject which Rukia actually does well in. In this story its Japanese history.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach

* * *

**Accidentally in Love: Ice cream**

* * *

When Rukia woke up, the first thing she thought was 'Where is Ichigo?' That thought was followed by numerous images of what had happened last night. He had held her on their roof for the better part of two hours, and in that two hours they hadn't said much at all. In fact, that was probably the quietest two hours they had ever spent in the presence of each other. Even though that was the case, Rukia felt that she had gained so much knowledge about the orange-haired boy by just sitting with him. Well, sitting in front of him. Same thing really, she tried to tell herself, as he rolled over. She blushed as she opened the closet. 

Ichigo was at his desk, trying to write something. His forehead was scrunched up in the usual frown while he bit his bottom lip. She fought back a smile. He really looked kind of cute that way. She wondered what he was doing. It reminded her of the time when they had received a massive assignment on the history of Japan. He had been sitting at his desk, his text book open, and in front of him a piece of paper with scribbles all through it.

* * *

Rukia tiptoed to see over Ichigo's shoulder. All that she could make out from the lines of scribbles was, 'Japan has had a big history.' 

"Japan has had a big history?" she asked him, her eyebrow arched. Ichigo looked to the side.

"Yeah, so?" he said. "Didn't it?"

She rolled her eyes. If there was one subject that she didn't fail in, it was Japanese history. And, if there was one subject that Ichigo did particularly bad in, it also happened to be, Japanese history.

"Ichigo, even I know that sucks." She placed a hand on her hip, as Ichigo turned around to face her. "Don't tell me that's all you're handing in?"

"Shut up," he growled back. "At least I don't fail art."

"Ichigo…" she said lowly, in a rather dangerous tone. How dare he bring up her art results – it was just because she had gotten lower than she had expected – that was all.

"What? It's true –" Ichigo was cut off.

"Do you want help or not?" she asked him, slightly happy that she had acted in a much more mature fashion than she usually did. The other side of her was positively burning with rage – though she had consoled it a bit, because Ichigo was, after all, pretty much failing Japanese history.

They both knew that it was her best subject. She had completed the assignment almost as soon as they had received it, and Ichigo knew she would top the class. Well, the only reason that she did good in this subject, was because they had been extensively trained in the Shinigami Academy. And, being 150 years old helped one know quite a bit about the history of a world in which mortals presided in.

"Fine."

Rukia scowled at him. "Idiot. Say please."

Ichigo gritted his teeth. He swore she would pay for this later on. Pay for making him say please, not helping him with his assignment.

"Please," he managed.

"No."

"What?"

Rukia smiled sweetly at him. "Say, 'Rukia, please help me with my history assignment', ok?"

He growled. "Bitch," he muttered under his breath, and then suddenly, due to forces unknown, hit the floor.

* * *

Rukia lay in her makeshift bed for a while, still looking at Ichigo work. Every now and then he would glance at the wall in front of him, close his eyes and then write something down. It was a habit she had noticed him develop during class. Not that she watched him continuously, or anything. 

In the end she had helped him, and the history assignment had turned out quite well. Despite Ichigo nearly failing Japanese History, Rukia found that he had some good ideas – he just didn't know how to put them down on paper. They worked on the assignment that whole weekend – to solve the problem of hollows, Ichigo had rang up Ishida, and asked him if he would do some hollow-killing – if any arose.

The Quincy had refused, but after a few seconds of coaxing (and some threats to steal his cape), he gave in. They had worked pretty well, and by Sunday night, Ichigo had a fairly well put together assignment. Rukia was rather proud of their – well, it was mostly hers – work.

Rukia shook herself out of her memories, and slid the closet door fully shut. When she emerged, she was dressed in her school uniform, and her bedding material was all folded neatly.

"Good morning Ichigo," she said, trying to sound cheery. Immediately her thoughts turned to the previous night, and she turned slightly red.

He must have thought the same thing, because he turned away.

"Good morning," he said, before studying the paper in front of him intently.

"How come you're up early?" she asked, dangling her legs over the side of the closet.

"Oh," he replied, without looking up. "I forgot I had some homework. I was going to do it last night but…" he trailed off, knowing _exactly _why he hadn't done it last night.

To make it worse, she knew exactly why as well. They had both been too preoccupied.

"Uh…well," Rukia replied quickly, trying not to make her voice shake. "I'm hungry."

Ichigo put his pen down. It was about time to start getting ready for school anyway.

School went fairly quick that day. It was one of those days where the bells just seemed to be ringing continuously – except for the last period.

Rukia didn't mind however, it was Japanese History, and she prided herself at being at the top of the class. As she hurried towards the classroom, her thoughts fell back on Ichigo. The phrase, 'the top of the class' had reminded her of a certain orange haired boy who had handed in his (read: her) history assignment. That day had been a pretty big shock in her life.

* * *

"Ok class, I have marked all the assignments," the teacher said, walking into the room. That statement caused an excited buzz to flow around the classroom. Even if everyone knew who was going to get the top mark. Rukia, of course. She always did. 

"And, I have very, interesting news."

The general murmur stopped, as the teacher put down the books and sheets she had been carrying. "Now, do you want me to read out all the marks, or just tell you the top three?"

The class settled on reading out the top three marks first.

"Ok, third place, we have Ishida, with 95," the teacher said. The mentioned boy merely pushed his glasses further up his nose, and stood up to receive his mark.

"Now, second place, is Rukia, with 96."

Conversation erupted everywhere around the classroom. If Rukia and Ishida ranked second and third, who could the first be? This was unheard of.

"And I'm pleased to say, that Kurosaki Ichigo got first place, with 98."

* * *

The bell rung, knocking Rukia out of her memory. She had almost regretted helping Ichigo. She really couldn't believe that he had beaten her. Though, the look on his face was the nearest she had seen him be to happy. Although he had told her afterwards, as they were walking home from school, that he didn't actually care, she knew he did. She could tell he did. And it was confirmed, when he thanked her, that afternoon. 

They had walked about halfway to the Kurosaki household, before Ichigo grabbed her elbow.

"Rukia."

She stopped, and looked at him questioningly.

"What?"

"Um…Do you want to go get some ice cream?" he asked, not looking at her in the eye.

* * *

He had asked her the same question that afternoon, when they found out he had topped the class. It was his way of saying thanks, and he somehow knew that she would understand – even if she had given him a funny look when she had said yes. 

When they had sat on a bench, a fair way away from the ice cream vendor, he had muttered a small thank-you to her, and proceeded to lick his ice cream. That was when he had noticed her staring at him.

"What," he asked, suddenly self-conscious. Ice cream had a way of dripping down one's chin, and he thought some sneaky drop had made its way from the cone to his face, its intent to embarrass him in front of Rukia. Not that he cared.

"Uh…Ichigo…what is this?" she asked, pointing at the cold, pink coloured lump known to humans as strawberry ice cream.

He gave her a blank look. "That's ice cream."

"Oh?"

"…"

"You eat it like this," he said, sighing, before proceeding to show her the basics of eating ice cream. He should've known that they didn't have these types of things in Soul Society. Rukia would have been clueless.

"So…you just lick it? Like this?" she asked him, and proceeded to poke out her tongue to touch the ice cream.

Ichigo looked away. Something about her, ice cream, and her tongue had a rather bad effect on his mind. "Yeah."

"But it's cold!"

"Yes, that's why its called, _ice _cream. It's supposed to be," he finished lamely as he saw her confused look.

Five minutes later, Rukia had officially finished her first cone of ice cream. Well, finished wouldn't be the best word for it. That was because about half the contents of her ice cream cone was deposited around her face. It turned out that she was a very messy eater, at least, when it came to ice cream.

"Rukia…" Ichigo started, shaking his head. "You're supposed to eat all of it, not let your face have it."

He leaned towards her, fishing out of his pocket his hanky. He was about to help her wipe the ice cream off, when he looked at her lips. They were full, and slightly apart, and amongst the pink ice cream, they looked…well, inviting.

"Uh…Ichigo?"

He snapped out of his daydream, realising that he had just been inches from her face, staring at her lips. It must have been very awkward. He avoided her eyes, as he proceeded to wipe away the ice cream with his hanky.

* * *

Ichigo sighed. She had ordered strawberry again. He didn't know why she liked that godforsaken flavour. It looked and tasted horrible, he thought, walking to the seat where they had sat upon where Rukia had had her first ice cream. 

He hadn't even started on his ice cream, while Rukia was already licking hers. He had found, after that incident with him topping the class, that she was an ice cream addict. Not that he minded really – it gave him an excuse to take her out sometimes, on weekends – though they had to be careful that they weren't seen by anyone from school. It had happened once, and the rumours were awful.

He watched her for a little while, before starting on his own. As usual, he finished before her. Now that she had lots of experience in the ice cream department, she found that it was much nicer to savour the taste, instead of gulping it down. Plus, she had already found out what gulping it down did – it hurt the head like hell.

This time, however, since she had already started before Ichigo, she finished about a minute behind him.

"Rukia. You have ice cream on the side of your face," Ichigo said bluntly.

"Can you take it off?" she asked, slightly annoyed. Really, telling her she had ice cream on her face and then not doing anything about it was quite un-gentleman-like of him, though, she had to admit, it was Ichigo-like.

She heard him mumble something that sounded like, 'I'm not your slave', but gave a small smile when she saw him reach into his back pocket for his hanky. She looked away as he leaned towards her – so he could get the ice cream off.

Ichigo tried not to look at her face as he leaned towards her, his hand still in his back pocket, fishing around for his hanky. He abruptly stopped when he came to the conclusion that there was no hanky – he had forgotten to bring one today – and he was only inches away from her. His gaze rested on her lips. Full, and slightly apart, just like that other day. Except that time he had a hanky. He was screwed.

Rukia could only see an orange patch out of the corner of her eye, and wondering why the hell Ichigo was taking so long, turned around to see what he was doing. That was a mistake. With Ichigo so close to her, she ended up kissing him.

At first, nothing happened, except fumbled lips. But as time (slowly) passed, she began to enjoy the spontaneous kiss, opening her mouth slightly. She felt Ichigo's arms encircle her waist, and she let out a low moan as she grabbed his collar in two small fistfuls to bring him down closer to her. Even sitting down, he was a fair bit taller than her.

When they broke apart, both slightly red, and out of breath, Ichigo was the first to speak, as he straightened his rumpled school shirt.

"You still have ice cream on your face," he said, and proceeded to wipe the corner of her mouth with the cuff of his sleeve.

"I didn't have a hanky, so…" he said, averting his gaze.

"Ichigo."

Her voice demanded attention, and he sat up slightly straighter and looked her in the eye. Though, his gaze did travel down to where her lips were.

"What the hell was that?" she asked him, unsure of what to say.

"Oh. That…was a… kiss," he said with difficulty, looking away again.

"I know what it was, you idiot. But…did it mean anything?" she asked him, pleaded with him. The past day, and today he had been acting too differently. She wasn't stupid enough to pretend that she wasn't in love with him – though she could hide it very well – but the recent events between her and him had just been too much. She wanted to know what the hell was he thinking. So here she was, crossing the line, which would indefinitely change their status from friends to something else. What that was, she didn't know.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

"Yeah," he grunted, still not looking at her.

"Yeah, what?"

There was an awkward period of silence.

"Yeah…it did mean something," he finally said. Ichigo sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. "Well…for me…" he continued. Crap. This was probably going to end their tender friendship which he had come to enjoy – even if they fought every day. But now that they had kissed – things were bound to change – even he knew that. She was a shinigami, he was a human. And, even if guys did like older women, Rukia was just extreme. She had to be at least ten times his age, and he didn't think that a woman ten times his age would take a romantic interest in him. He closed his eyes and waited for the lecture on how she was a shinigami, how she was too old for him etc.

It never came.

Instead, Rukia said, "It'd better have. I like you, you idiot." Even though that was an understatement. From the time she had spent with him, she knew she had fallen in love with him. Though she would never tell him that. Well, sometime later on, perhaps.

That was enough for Ichigo. He never thought he'd have to say those words – "I like you too." Girls had confessed their feelings to him before, and he had always turned them down. He never expected to be saying that – and to Rukia of all people.

"I don't know why though – you're annoying, short, demanding, and you suck at drawing."

Rukia scowled. "Take that back, Ichigo," she warned.

He smirked.

Under normal situations, she would have hit him hard, and that would have been the end of their disagreement. Just like when he had called her a bitch when she was merely asking him if he wanted help on his assignment. She realised however, as she leant towards him, that from now on there would be a much more efficient way of ending their disagreements. Not to mention enjoyable.

* * *

**AN: **Woo! Finished. As in, complete. Totally awesome. Thanks everyone for reviewing, and reading these short one-shots. Who knows, I might make a bonus epilogue or something. Though that would depend on…the reviews. Haha, well I hope this piece was as fun for you to read, as it was for me writing it. Now, head over to A Summer Job if you haven't read it already. 


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